Lady of the Mere, Sole-sitting by the shores of old romance.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

Milton, thou should'st be living at this hour.

Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.

The wealthiest man among us is the best

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.